Ch. 1 - Christie

"AUNT BETSEY, there's going to be a new Declaration of
Independence."

"Bless and save us, what do you mean, child?" And the startled old
lady precipitated a pie into the oven with destructive haste.

"I mean that, being of age, I'm going to take care of myself, and
not be a burden any longer. Uncle wishes me out of the way; thinks I
ought to go, and, sooner or later, will tell me so. I don't intend
to wait for that, but, like the people in fairy tales, travel away
into the world and seek my fortune. I know I can find it."

Christie emphasized her speech by energetic demonstrations in the
bread-trough, kneading the dough as if it was her destiny, and she
was shaping it to suit herself; while Aunt Betsey stood listening,
with uplifted pie-fork, and as much astonishment as her placid face
was capable of expressing. As the girl paused, with a decided thump,
the old lady exclaimed:

"What crazy idee you got into your head now?"

"A very sane and sensible one that's got to be worked out, so please
listen to it, ma'am. I've had it a good while, I've thought it over
thoroughly, and I'm sure it's the right thing for me to do. I'm old
enough to take care of myself; and if I'd been a boy, I should have
been told to do it long ago. I hate to be dependent; and now there's
no need of it, I can't bear it any longer. If you were poor, I
wouldn't leave you; for I never forget how kind you have been to me.
But Uncle doesn't love or understand me; I am a burden to him, and I
must go where I can take care of myself. I can't be happy till I do,
for there's nothing here for me. I'm sick of this dull town, where
the one idea is eat, drink, and get rich; I don't find any friends
to help me as I want to be helped, or any work that I can do well;
so let me go, Aunty, and find my place, wherever it is."

"But I do need you, deary; and you mustn't think Uncle don't like
you. He does, only he don't show it; and when your odd ways fret
him, he ain't pleasant, I know. I don't see why you can't be
contented; I've lived here all my days, and never found the place
lonesome, or the folks unneighborly." And Aunt Betsey looked
perplexed by the new idea.

"You and I are very different, ma'am. There was more yeast put into
my composition, I guess; and, after standing quiet in a warm corner
so long, I begin to ferment, and ought to be kneaded up in time, so
that I may turn out a wholesome loaf. You can't do this; so let me
go where it can be done, else I shall turn sour and good for
nothing. Does that make the matter any clearer?" And Christie's
serious face relaxed into a smile as her aunt's eye went from her to
the nicely moulded loaf